Found You
by bickeringgibberish
Summary: How far can you go to find love? [NatsuMikan] [ONESHOT]


**Summary: How far can you go to find love? **

**A/N: Hi guys, I'm back—and I did another one shot. Thanks to all who read and reviewed The Necktie. I really appreciate it. You guys are my inspiration in writing. So, let's begin! **

**o-O-o**

Paris. The capital of France. Who knew that I would be able to come here and see this magnificent scenery? It is just surreal. I can't breathe. I just can't. I have planned this trip for months, earned a decent amount of money (for I don't want appear as a spoiled brat) for this trip and focused on my goal.

To find love.

Cliché, I know. I actually assume that all of you are thinking that I am some kind of hopeless romantic who is waiting to be swept off her feet by her prince who is riding his white horse.

Well, that's true.

I am a hopeless romantic and I have been searching for my prince—for approximately six years. I started searching for him once I hit my teenage years and I have not lost hope. And I am bloody proud of it. Other than finding my prince, I actually want to prove that I will be able to survive this place to my friends and also rub into their faces that true love does exist and my prince is here.

And so, with my money, my suitcase full of clothes for probably a month or two, and an English-French dictionary in my purse, I set foot—

To the City of Love.

**o-O-o**

Bullshit. I need a place to stay, and I can't find one. Well, actually I found some hotels: Ritz Paris (my eyes literally popped out as I read the price of a room), Intercontinental (skipped that one too), Hyatt Regency (skipped), I also found several hotels nearer to the Eiffel Tower —but then I have not managed to save an _enormous_ amount for this trip and I just can't spend my money on a room! I nervously swallowed the lump in my throat and closed my eyes. Who knew that this would be so difficult? I released a sigh and read the brochure I have and scanned through the list of first star hotels—The Camelia is the most decent one according to the brochure. Out of budget, I thought miserably. I shuddered, cursing myself for not planning that much.

Immediately acting on my instinct, I rummaged for my phone and flipped it open. No, I would certainly _not_ call my friends—I know too well that they'll laugh at me. I would call someone else, someone I could trust and hope not to expose my failure. "Hey! Uh, yeah, you see I need help, _badly_. And I would really, really appreciate it if you shut up and not say anything about this to Hotaru or the others or else—" I waited for him to agree to my terms, "Listen. Do you know someone—_anyone-_your relative, a distant friend who owns a place here in Paris? I know I am stupid. I need a room—a house, whatever to stay in! Help me!" I wailed. Tobita Yuu is my last chance and I do hope that this fellow knows someone... "Huh? You don't—Oh. No it's fine, just don't say anything about this to them! Yeah, I'll see you. Bye."

Okay, my first plan failed—could this day go any worse?

I was about to lose hope when my phone buzzed. I quickly snapped it open and read the message. It came from my senior, Andou Tsubasa, who found out about my problem through Yuu, and gave me the address of his loft in Paris (which I can use for free. I thanked God over and over), said something about someone staying there and told me to have a good trip.

I was ecstatic! I finally found a place to stay—and it was for free! I instantly hailed a cab and told him the address in fractured French. He nodded and drove.

I am so lucky.

Minutes later I was in front of an old looking building—well, almost all buildings in the street (as I have noticed) were old. The façade was painted crème, a French door situated at the top of the stairs and the window sills full of orchids and flowers. It was splendid—and it was near tourist spots. I giggled and made my way inside.

He said in the text message that his loft was on the second floor, 2B to be exact. I made my way up, casually noticing the interior of the building and the floor boards that creak beneath my feet. I reached the door of 2B and started to knock. I inspected my clothes and combed my hair—I need to look presentable of course. There was no answer. I knocked once more. Nothing. I bit my lip, growing impatient. I knocked again. Nothing. Okay, calm down Mikan. Calm down.

But I can't so I decided to leave (for I felt stupid knocking on the door for ages) the door opened and a man came out, and instantly my breath was caught in my throat.

He is handsome! Handsome and young too! He has these unusual, piercing, crimson eyes that captivated my stare; he is rather lean and muscular, with unruly jet black hair that reaches his nape and he wore his bed clothes so stylishly. How can he be so _hot_ in flannel pajamas and a white undershirt?

"Yes?" The man drawled out lazily as he gave me a once over. Deciding that I am not his type, he scoffed, "If you're some runaway teenager—" He nodded towards my suitcase. "I can not and will not take you in. I would rather call the police and have you sent home."

I gaped at him, "Excuse me, but I am not a teenager! And I have not run away from home, my mother knows I am here."

"Well," he drawled, clearly bored. "You knocked on the wrong door then." And with that the hot guy I was just praising shut the door on my face.

I blinked—and blinked—and felt rage consume me. I counted to ten, tried to level my anger but failed. So, I rapped on his door once more. He didn't seem eager in opening the door. I tried some more. I know how to annoy people. That's what I am good at. Finally, he wrenched the door open, irritation and anger evident in his face.

"What?" He bit out.

"You know Andou Tsubasa?"

"Well what about Andou?"

"I need a place to stay and he told me I could stay here. He says someone's living here—which means you—"

"No shit, Sherlock."

I ignored him, "—and he told me I can stay here for two months."

"Is that it?"

"Yes." He gave me a look of annoyance, "Look, I know you don't want me here. I'll try my best to get out of your way, _please_ let me stay. I don't have anywhere else to go." I gave him my puppy eyes and he seemed to look disgusted at first, but then he pulled the door open, and I squealed in delight and thanked him.

"Just don't touch my things." I ignored him and sauntered inside.

I sat down on his couch and let my eyes take in the surroundings—for a man, this apartment was so neat! The coffee table was clear—a lonesome vase sat there with some daffodils, no magazines in sight. A black couch sat directly in front of the television, a wooden bookcase was set beside a recliner seat at one corner. There were several pictures hanging on the wall, all of them tourist spots, no picture of a woman, a family or a man (though I doubt he is gay). I mentally thought that maybe he is obsessive compulsive. I heard the door close and I turned to see him there, with a grouchy expression on his face.

"So what's your name?" I asked with a smile.

He scowled at me and grudgingly spat his name out, "Hyuuga Natsume."

I offered my hand which he ignored, how rude of him. "Sakura Mikan."

He didn't answer, instead he went to his room (I assumed it was his) and shut the door. So much for hospitality.

**o-O-o**

Days passed and I learned more about my 'housemate.' Natsume is a graduating student who is taking up photography which explains the scenery pictures hanging in the walls. I have to admit, he is one great photographer. He rarely does model photo shoots, saying that girls annoy him nonstop—thus no work. He also showed me his camera; I can say that it is the latest Nikon SLR (sorry, I am not into cameras, not at all. Probably Hotaru is but I am never a camera person) he is actually selfish—he slapped my hand away (it hurt) when I tried to touch it.

"It's expensive! I don't want you to destroy it." He snapped.

"I do not destroy things!"

"Yeah, right." He snarled, "You broke two of the plates last night—"

"That was because you surprised me!" I fired at him.

"—you almost had the bookcase topple over—"

"—I was trying to reach a book, besides it didn't fall!" I justified, he glared at me.

"—you knocked over the mirror in the hall—" he continued.

I raised my arms to surrender, "You win. I am a clumsy girl. I won't touch your _freaking_ camera, okay?"

He smirked at me. I always wanted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face, I wonder why girls fall for him—yes he is handsome but then, he is _one rotten_ man! One day, a blonde woman, probably in her mid thirties knocked on the door, gave me a disdainful look before latching herself on him and saying she baked him cookies, I snorted. What is he? A kid? And besides the 'cookies' looked like lumps of mud. It was annoying—and I was about to barf when he shoved her out, I was really thankful to him at that time.

He is into cougars, that's what I said to him and you know what he did? He flicked my forehead. It hurt and I still have that red mark on my forehead.

He is also a pervert—yes, yes he is. One time while I was in the shower I was astounded to see him open the door (he was shirtless, and I saw—oh god, I saw his muscular chest and abs, If I can just wake up seeing-) without any care at all. It was a good thing that I was still in my underwear or else he would've seen me in my naked glory.

"Polka-dots." He said distastefully, " I thought kids only wear that kind of underwear?"

My jaw dropped literally at what he said, "You—you—pervert!"

He chuckled at my statement, "You showed them to me, polka."

I turned the shower nozzle towards him and turned it on—it hit the light switch and got short circuited. He forgot to mention that one, right?

"—oi, snap out of it." He snapped, I blinked and was back in time. I growled at him. "Aren't you supposed to go and have a tour, that's why you went here, right?"

"I think that is none of your business." I snapped back, I was still enraged about our little spat. "I only went here for the Eiffel Tower."

He rolled his eyes, "In Japan, there is what we call 'Tokyo Tower' you should've just gone there. They're just the same. They're both towers."

I sucked in a breath, "I came here to find love."

He stopped dead in his tracks before turning to look at me. At first he was expressionless, but then he broke into a fit of laughter—which lasted for several minutes. "Love?" he continued laughing, "Oh, shit! So what are you going to do here? Find a knight in shining armor who will sweep you off your feet? Oh god! I thought you weren't as stupid as you look—"

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "Is it wrong that I am such a hopeless romantic?"

"Come on, fairytales don't exist anymore princess—besides, Disney just made every single Grimm's Fairytales have a happy ending. We all know they ended up badly. They actually lied to children."

"I believe in love! Haven't you heard of the woman who threw herself down from the Eiffel Tower because she was left by her man—"

"And you call that love—"

"I'm not finished yet!" I screamed, "After throwing herself down the tower she hit a car. Three years after that, the owner of the car and she got married. See? Happily ever after!"

"There's always divorce." He pointed.

"I don't believe in divorce."

"So," he smirked, "you're going to throw yourself down from the tower?"

I rolled my eyes at him, "No. I'm not crazy."

"But why go here?" He asked, "Surely you can find someone there—in Japan."

"Adventure! Don't you find it thrilling? Finding love in an unusual place—a place where you don't know anyone, a place where you can tour alone?"

"I find it scary." He paused, "What if—what if the person you are supposed to end up with is just beside you? Don't you think it's stupid to go great lengths only to be disappointed that you've been looking for love in the wrong place and at the wrong time?"

I considered his point for a while, true. What if he is in Japan then what am I doing here right now? "I am the type of person who does not wait for something to happen—" I shrugged, "if all of us wait nothing will happen."

"So your point is be aggressive," he gave me a lewd look, I hit his arm, "then why aren't you pouncing on every French guy we see?"

I bit my lip and try to contain my annoyance, "Aren't you supposed to be at the University now?" I bit out.

"They canceled my classes," he shrugged, "tell you what, I have nothing to do—maybe we can have a stroll downtown. Anywhere."

I raised my eyebrows at him, "Are you trying to compensate for the row we had a while ago?" He didn't answer, instead her yanked my arm and started dragging me out of the apartment.

"Come on, I'll give you a tour—but we _will_ _not_ go—I repeat, we will not go to the shopping district." He flinched, "I don't want to waste my time following you around from one shop to another."

I nodded at him with a smile; he's not so bad after all.

**o-O-o**

"Shit," I cursed once I stepped foot inside the apartment. Natsume was already home—in the kitchen wearing his apron to be exact. Crap, he is already preparing dinner. He didn't even raise his eyes, busy with the meal he was preparing. I was actually surprised when I found out that he can cook. Men are hopeless in the kitchen and I have been a witness to that one most of the time. I apologized to him (he ignored me) and told him about my day. Since he did not want to come with me to the shopping districts of Paris I went on my own. I left early and arrived late. There were just too many shops to enter but it took me so long to find what I wanted and needed.

"What's for dinner?" I asked as I watched him chop spinach leaves, I grimaced and he noticed.

"Spinach and Onion Quiche. You don't like spinach?"

"No shit, Sherlock. Want me to help?" He gestured towards the bacon, "slice them?" He nodded as he turned his attention to the onions.

"So, where did you go today?"

"How was your boring day today?" I answer, he glared at me, "I went to Champs-Élysées first, there's nothing much to see—but then I found some amusing souvenirs, I bought some for my friends."

"Nothing much to see because you can't shop for clothes." He quipped and I laughed.

"True enough—I went next to Le Marais! It was so amazing there. Other than seeing architectural buildings, I went to several art galleries and fashion houses," I babbled continuously, "gay people live there right? I saw some Jewish settlements and Chinese ones too. I also saw rue du temple—you know the—"

"Chinese church? Yeah, I know. I live here, in case you missed that."

"I also saw Nicholas Flamel's house! The known alchemist who made the Philospher's stone!" I wasn't that interested in Picasso anyways so I skipped that part.

"Okay, hold it. Let's combine all the ingredients so we can bake it in the oven." He helped me mix while I continued talking.

"I also went to Avenue Montaigne—everything was just so surreal."

"Did you buy anything?"

"Well," I grinned, "just a bit a new pair of gloves for my mother, bag for Sumire, a scarf for Hotaru and some other things." I blushed knowing too well that he knows I went from one shop to another.

"So you conquered Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Dior, Givenchy, Bvlgari—"

"I didn't buy in every shop." I said, "Oh, I bought you something." I left him in the kitchen and rummaged through the goods, "Here, I don't know what your favorite color is—or if you'd like it but—yeah. Thanks." I handed him one of the paper bags. I urged him to open it. "It's a muffler. Just in case it becomes colder you know, you have something to wear. It's red. I just based it on your eyes—try to bring it out."

He set it aside and smirked at me, "It's fine though I prefer black. Thanks. What are you taking up anyways? You sure know something about fashion."

"I'm a girl, of course I know about that stuff. I'm taking up education—I plan to have a little day care center in ten years time," I smiled, "I like kids."

"So you'll be an old Sunday school teacher?" He joked, "a spinster!"

I rolled my eyes, "no you idiot!"

**o-O-o**

I heaved a deep sigh from my chest as I half heartedly folded my clothes. I can't believe that two months have passed and I'm on my way back home. Mom sent me a text a while ago, saying 'have a safe trip.' Same goes with my other friends. I glanced outside the window: it was a sunny day and yet I felt down. Numb even. I love Paris—and I don't want to leave. Maybe someday I will come back here and have my own home. I smiled at the thought.

I came here to find love and yet—I have not found it. Not at all. But don't get me wrong, I am not disappointed with the outcome. Rather I am delighted that I made a few friends here (including the blonde thirty year old woman who likes Natsume). It was a great experience. Natsume had been kind enough to let me accompany him to several shoots and sight seeing. It was amazing. He was amazing; I never thought that the two of us will be friends—I actually thought that we will just be housemates. I never thought that he enjoys watching Spongebob Squarepants the way I do (though he denies this); he likes to read a lot (he's actually the smartest in their class); he takes a bath longer than I do; he hates carrots and he'll never touch them. I enjoyed nights when we played poker and he loses; the mornings when we would race to the door to get the newspaper for comics.

I think that was enough for me.

"So what time's your flight?" Natsume asked as I packed my clothes, I turned to him, surprised that he was up early. He was leaning against my doorframe, eyes tired, hair tousled and he was wearing a white undershirt and pajamas—the same attire he wore when we first met.

"Ten thirty. Time flies don't you think? All of a sudden two months have passed. It's a bummer I wouldn't be able to see your photo exhibit." I gave him a sad smile. He snorted and sat on my bed.

"Cancel your flight then—just leave tomorrow or—" He frowned, "whenever."

"I can't. They're expecting me already." It was sad that I have to leave him. He and I became friends and I found his company interesting and fun. Bummer. I have to leave already.

"Want me to give you a ride?"

"I thought you'll never ask." I smiled at him, checked the room just in case I forgot something and dragged my suitcase out of the room. He followed me and took his car keys.

It took us twenty minutes to arrive at the airport—throughout the ride, he and I were silent. It was actually comfortable and he was nice enough to give me a ride even though I know he still has something to do. I was also silent because I was busy looking at the scenery.

I stopped dead on my racks in the middle of the airport lounge and snatched his wrist. "How about a picture?

"To boast to your friends?" He joked. I gagged at what he said and insisted. He agreed anyways. I took out my phone and took a picture—it was horrible. Natsume didn't even smile.

He walked beside me, carrying my suitcase. I silently wondered what he will do once he arrives in his place. Probably he would read in his room and listen to music.

"You're quiet."

"Can't I be?" I fired at him, he shrugged and stared at the monitor—I glance up to and saw 'Tokyo: 10:30AM.' I sigh to myself and thought of home, thought of mom, Hotaru and the others. I can imagine their triumphant faces and their taunts once I get there. I shuddered involuntarily.

"Ten twenty, shouldn't you go in now?" he asked me.

"I—I—uh," I looked away, feeling nervous of my request.

"What?"

"Can—can I hug you?" He looked at me in bewilderment, I swallowed and nervously smiled. He pondered for a while before nodding timidly. I reached for him and slipped my arms through his waist. He flinched at the contact and stood still. After a few moments, his arm awkwardly enveloped me and pulled me closer. It was the best feeling in the world—the best smell too. I will never forget the way he smells—always that musky sandalwood scent paired with his citrus aftershave. I wish I would meet him again. I really do.

"I'll miss you—I really would. I know you wouldn't, I know you're glad that I am out of your hair." I buried my head in his chest and pulled his waist closer. I could feel his heart beat against my ear. It was painful and heartbreaking. I really would miss him.

He placed his hand on the top of my head and rubbed my back affectionately. "Yeah, I am glad you're going—but then, I won't have entertainment in my place anymore." I snorted in annoyance before laughing at him.

"I—I have a proposition."

He loosened his grip, "well?"

"If—if you come to Japan… you're welcome to stay at my place. I'll be returning the favor."

"You owe Andou, not me." He clarified.

"Well—if you just want to stay at my place!" I smiled at him, tore a piece of paper and started scribbling my address. "Here, if you come to Japan. Stay at my place. Free."

He took the paper and folded it in half before stuffing it into his pocket. I smiled at him once more and glanced at my watch 10:25.

"Well, this is it. Bye." I looked at him. He was expressionless—I was disappointed. Before I knew it, I was on my toes and giving him a soft kiss on his cheek. He was stunned for a while but he came back immediately with a quip:

"Isn't it disappointing? You went here to find love but now you're going home—" he smirked, "without a boyfriend."

I ignored his question, laughed and gave my passport to the attendant. He was still there waiting for me to leave. I stuck my tongue at him and mouthed 'be careful' before I turned my back on him and headed my way.

**o-O-o**

As I sat down on my seat beside the window, I watch the clouds drift by—and my mind drifts back to his question. I stare at my phone's wallpaper and smile.

"You're wrong, Natsume—I found you."

**o-O-o**

**A/N: Hey guys! So, how far can you go to find love? And then you would go great distances to search only to find out that love was just beside you all along. Ironic right? I actually thought of writing a oneshot about Serendipity. (serendipity is finding something while looking for another thing) but then I can't think of a plot so I came up with this. Finding love. I know the end part is hanging. There will be no sequel but there will be another one shot regarding this one. Okay, bye guys! See you.**


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